February 13, 2011
Dear Clusterflock
What do you do when you get the feeling that most other people are having a way better time in life than you are, and that said most other people also have their shit together in ways that you can only aspire to?
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I should add: also, the realization you were never one of the cool kids, aren’t now, and barring some massive miracle, will never be, either.
Stop reading Facebook.
K
What Kevin said.
This resonates with me deeply.
1. I am sad that you feel this way. I know what it’s like to feel this way, and if you feel half as bad as I do, you feel terrible.
2. Everyone has secrets. Whether they are secret desires, secret fears, even the most successful people are still worried about people liking them or think they’re not that interesting sometimes. Everyone is sad and worried, and most people are too sad to even let it show, or don’t want to burden others.
3. A lot of life is being prepared for a lucky break. I got everything I ever had because I emailed someone, because I put myself out there instead of waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and inform me that it is my turn. Some people are truly inherently talented, the rest of us have to work like crazy to get anywhere at all. Do something, every single day. If you want to be a writer, then write for a few minutes every day. Find out what it is that makes you feel alive and then try and do it for a few minutes. Not three hours, just a few minutes. Maybe it’ll come to something, but if it doesn’t, you’re still doing the one thing that makes you feel like living and that’s a worthy end in and of itself.
4. When I feel bad about what it is that I do not have, I take stock of what I do have. What do you have, tangibles and intangibles?
5. Stop caring about what other people think. Easier said than done. Most people are terrible and have terrible ideas. Find the people and place you can trust, and try trusting it for a while.
Everyone feels this way, sometimes. At some level. Vulnerable and exposed.
Oh my. Oh my my. I could tell you stories that would curl your hair about the lies/fictions/secrets stuffed way down and walled off in too many people. You can’t even imagine.
Chin up, eyes ahead. You have no idea how many people might be envying YOU.
Better yet (possibly): I could tell you stories. Or set up equipment to monitor 72 hours of my life.
And believe me, I do not say that in the sense of “And you think you’ve got it bad?” More in the sense of a glimpse backstage at another, equally true performance.
Yeah, I really think this is universal.
I guess I just realized I didn’t answer your question. You asked what I do. Sometimes I hide under the covers (literally). Sometimes I act the part of the person I want to be. Occasionally I surprise myself.
I like to go to Get Mortified shows. At the very least, they help me feel less alone when I find myself despairing in this state.
Even though they are not specific to what is hurting you now, try any of these recommendations that are appealing and doable.
chop wood
Drink. Watch netflix streaming.
Get outside, dig a hole deep enough to bury yourself. Then fill it back in. It’ll take care of any un-spent energy you may have inside you. (Thanks Daryl, you know how it works.)
Or if you’d rather not dig, come here, take the phones of The Greensman when snow is falling faster than you can dig out. Try to answer questions you can’t about when you’re going to be there. Answer the questions about why it’s going to take you so long to get there, when this particular caller never called you before, who all-of-a-sudden has a need, and why it costs what you’re going to charge?
It’s economics, fucker, supply and demand. Supply more, demand less.
I hope I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.
This, for the record, is in answer to the original question. I have no problem with any of the responses here.
There’s a bit in the new Miranda July movie, Rick, where a young girl digs a hole, buries herself up to her neck and wishes to sleep outside all night.
I’ll watch for it Amae. I count your word the best.
XOR
That is precisely the moment you don’t trust yourself (I am a big proponent of not trusting yourself).
A rather reassuring thread to read – dealing with ourselves can be the most difficult task we have. All I need to do is figure out how to get beyond the light switch. You do only need to flick them once, right?
It’s true, Phil. Once you have flicked them off, they stay off. Promise.
I eat a bowl of cereal and play video games in my underwear in the middle of the day. Take that people who have it together, you never get to do this.
Also: This Shert
Thank-you all for your responses, and I’ll have more to say later when I’m not on a mobile device. Yes, this was me posting as walken.
Although I will add here that perhaps Rick has mistaken me for someone else, as some of what you’re talking about is right over my head.
Walt, I did take you for someone else. Hope you’ll forgive me the rant. Gosh-dang Walken, one can never really tell who it might be. Bit me on the ass, once, when I tried posting as him. Tracy one time said a keyboard should come with a breathlyzer. It’s a true fact. I’m not sure who these others were talking to.
Suddenly I’m reminded of a t-shirt or bumper-sticker I’ll wildly paraphrase: “When you’re ass-deep in alligators, it’s too late to drain the swamp.”
Rick, that’s one of my favorite phrases — the one about alligators.
Now I want to write a memoir titled “Up to My Ass in Alligators.”
P.S. Don’t forget, Rick: We’re allowed from two to four clusterflock rants per year, gratis (depending on our membership level). Plus, we can carry rant credits over into subsequent calendar years. You’re not anywhere near your limit on the gratis rants.
I wouldn’t say this unless I meant it. I never took offence, so you have nothing to apologize to me for.
Think no more of it, Rick. I knew that it probably had nothing to do with me and more of a case of mistaken identity, but it’s nice to have confirmation.
Any self-flagellation over this from now on is pointless, unwelcome, and forbidden, Mr. Neece. Okay? Really. I mean it. (I also say this because gosh knows, I’ve done similar things and the self-recrimination and whatnot I felt burned and made me feel goddamned awful.)
Whoops. Apparently I chose copy instead of cut. The first and last line should only be the first line.
I always find it funny when I end up writing a better opening line last. This happens far too often for it to be a random thing – I’m guessing writing things down brings a clarity to my thoughts when I develop an idea as I type.
Fixed!
Wait. Rick was ranting? I must have a high rant threshold.
Actually, I really liked Rick’s “It’s economics, fucker, supply and demand. Supply more, demand less” — whether it qualifies as ranting or simply “uncomfortable truth.”
Shelia: I worked for a guy once whose very telephone ring was identifiable. Almost. He struck terror into hearts, especially new people. Once a co-worker was going on about some legendary rant or another. Then, he said, “You don’t even care. You think he’s funny.” It’s just a rant.
Now, cold deliberate cruelty, that’s different. Watch yourself.
Gulp.
Not you, silly.
Oh, I know. It’s just the necessity to watch myself that makes me gulp.